


Starting Point

by AnnieVH



Series: Behind Closed Doors [4]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Alternate Universe, F/M, Pregnancy, anti-milah
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-15
Updated: 2014-11-15
Packaged: 2018-02-25 10:55:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2619200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnieVH/pseuds/AnnieVH
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rumple thought he had found his Happy Ending. It was just the start of bad things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Starting Point

**Author's Note:**

> I've been wanting to fill this prompt (http://rumbelleprompts.tumblr.com/post/90082568530/rumple-milah-neal-belle-tw-domestic) for a while now, so I decided to do it as one-shots pertaining to the same verse (Behind Closed Doors), since I lack the attention span for multi-chapter. If anybody wants to send me ideas and prompts, I need them very much.
> 
> A companion piece for this picspam (http://annievh.tumblr.com/post/102166515522/behind-closed-doors-warnings-domestic-abuse).
> 
> Pairings for this verse: eventual Rumbelle and Swanfire.  
> Warnings for this verse: abusive relationship, implied non-con situations, child-abuse, violence, infidelity, very anti-Milah.
> 
> A HUGE THANKS to Maddie for betaing it so fast!

Rumple ran his fingers through Milah's hair over and over but her body was still stiff against his. Had the cot been any bigger, she'd have sought refuge far away from him, but that was all they had now: a little cot in the backroom of a pawnshop.

No wonder she was mad at him.

“I'm sorry, my love, I really am,” he repeated inside her ear.

Milah didn't acknowledge it. But her hand swiftly wiped away a tear he couldn't see.

“We'll be alright, I promise.”

“He won't help us, Rumple. How are we possibly going to be alright?”

He searched his mind for a comforting lie, but couldn't find one. Truth was, they were left with nothing. He couldn't even afford Law School now. He was lucky to be granted a bed in his Aunts' shop and a job to support his family.

“We have each other,” he said, hoping she'd agree with him. She didn't. His hand disentangled itself from her hair and caressed her inflated stomach. “We have our child. I'll be a much better father than my dad ever was. I'll be a good husband.”

She buried her face in her hands and started sobbing.

“No, honey, don't cry-”

“You couldn't even fight for us today. How can I expect you to be a good husband if you won't even stand up to your father.”

Rumple kept tracing circles on her belly, listening to her cries and hushing her softly because he didn't know what else to say. He desperately wanted to find an excuse or an explanation.

He  _ did  _ stand up to his father. If Malcolm Gold Sr. had had it his way, Milah would be out on the streets by now, pregnant and alone, and Rumple would have been shipped to the cheapest college Malcolm Gold Sr. could find. According to him, the education of his less than brilliant son was a waste of money (“Just so you won't say I've never given you anything.”), and helping out the gold-digger he had been stupid enough to impregnate was even more so.

Rumple had no idea what Milah wanted from him. To move back into his father's house with Milah and refuse to leave? Have a screaming match with the old man until he agreed to give help them? Those things were pointless.

The best he could manage was to refuse to leave her for the sake of his father's reputation. Gold Sr. had promised to cut him off right then and there. He owned everything in town. He owned  _ everyone  _ in town. If he so wished, he'd leave them both homeless and unemployed. Whatever bastard child they had, they wouldn't even be allowed to keep.

Milah had looked at the older man terrified, and she wasn't the type that scared off easily. Still, Rumple had held on to her hand and stood his ground. He had all but five minutes to shout back interrupted arguments before his father kicked them out of the house.

Rumple was lucky Malcolm's sister (and her “companion”, as his father would disdainfully call the woman Aunt Fauna had decided to share her life with) loved him as a mother. The little she could afford, she'd give it to him. They would both be safe, at least for a while.

Yet he couldn't make Milah stop crying and it was breaking his heart.

“I'm sure he'll come around, Milah,” he lied inside her ear, just to make her feel better. If he knew anything about his father, it was that his stubbornness was only matched in hate for his only son. His father wouldn't miss him. If anything, he might send Milah flowers to thank her for finally taking him out of his sight.

She was still sobbing, though. Milah was too smart for comforting lies. She had faced the worst of the world long before him. Rumple was only one more in a long line of men who had used and disappointed her. And Rumple was fully aware of that.

If only he could make her trust him.

Sitting up, he looked around the room. Aunt Fauna's spinning wheel had been pushed to a corner. Close to it, a small batch of straw. Milah didn't understand why his Aunt was so fond of it, it wasn't like there was a high demand for spinners in this day and age. Still, she had allowed him to show her how it worked. Sat next to him. Let his hands guide hers.

He had fallen in love with her sitting by that spinning wheel.

Rumple got up and fetched a single piece of straw.

“Come here, love,” he whispered, helping her sit up on the cot and brushing hair and tears away from her face. “I want to give you something.”

Rumple took her left ring finger and tied the straw around it, over and over, until there was only enough of it left to make a little bow. “Here you go.”

Curiosity had made her stop crying. “What is this?”

“It's a ring.”

She sounded more confused than hostile when she said, “Rumple, this is straw.”

“Yes, well, it's a promise. Someday, I'll turn this straw into gold.”

Milah was not impressed. “How? I-”

She tried to look away, but he cupped her face gently and made her look at him. “By working hard. And putting you first. You and the baby. You'll always come first. I'll give you everything you need. As long as you're my wife, you will want for nothing.”

She sniffed. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, of course. I love you.” He took her hand to kiss her knuckles. “That's enough to get us through anything. You'll see.”

She sniffed again. In a tone that was trying to sound serious, but didn't quite get there, she added, “And you are sorry.”

He didn't hesitate. “I am very,  _ very  _ sorry I didn't fight harder today. And that my father is an ass.”

He smiled at her.

“Kiss my boot.”

He frowned, but there was an amused look inside his eyes, as if that had not been the answer he had expected, but it was a funny answer nonetheless. “What?”

“Kiss my boot. To show that you're really sorry.”

Rumple half-expected her to laugh it off as a joke, but she kept staring at him with eyes filled with expectation. She's a funny girl, his girlfriend. His  _ fiance _ . He would do anything to make her happy.

He raised his hands, as if defeated by an almighty opponent, and said, “Alright, if that is what you want.”

He tried to keep himself from smiling, because the whole thing was silly – and, if he had to be completely honest with himself, a little arousing. God, he was so glad she couldn't see him blush with his face kept down. After chewing on his lips a few times, he managed to make a straight face. She had her legs crossed and he reached for the boot that was floating in the air. With no hesitation, he planted a long kiss over the shoelaces.

“There, you see.” He worked his way up the leather with his lips. “Whatever you want. Whatever you need. You just have to ask.” He placed his chin on her knee and looked up, adoringly. “Am I forgiven?”

Her next sob broke into laughter and she cradled his head in her hands to kiss his lips. “Yes! Yes! Of course I do! You're such a dearie!”

He threw his arms around her, standing on his knees. It probably made him look silly, because she was taller then him, but he never minded that. The mother of his child loved him and trusted him to be a better man.

And she was happy.

That was all that mattered.

“I'll make you happy,” he whispered. “You'll see. We'll be very, very happy together.”

She laughed and cried and squeezed him tighter.

In her embrace, he felt like the luckiest man on earth.

Some people search for a lifetime and never find what they had.

He found his happy ending at the age of eighteen.

 

**Author's Note:**

> A list of all one-shots in verse chronological order can be found here: http://annievh.tumblr.com/post/102166515522/behind-closed-doors-warnings-domestic-abuse


End file.
